


Sanders Sides One Shots

by probablynothumanish



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Added Lore, Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossdressing, Drabbles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluffy, Hallucinations, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Inside jokes, M/M, Modern AU, One Shot, Platonic LAMP - Freeform, Self depreciation, Sleep, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Stargazing, Unnamed characters - Freeform, Wedding, canonverse, cute sleeping, dancing virgil, is it considered a "one shot" if its two or three parts?, one shots, platonic demus, platonic demusxiety, post DWIT, pre-aa, prompted, self depracating, self doubt, sleeping, soulmate angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2020-06-24 03:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 11,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19715506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablynothumanish/pseuds/probablynothumanish
Summary: A variety of prompted and/or requested one-shots. You can find me on tumblr @probablynothumanish to request a one-shot!





	1. Roman-o and Virgil-ette: Prinxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's a crappy title, but that's what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ethan is Deceit.

Virgil sat on the balcony, cup in hand, staring down at the artificially red juice inside. The music from the party was pouring out of the house, loud even through the glass door leading out to the balcony. 

Why Virgil even decided to come to Remus’ party, he didn’t know. He hated the bastard. If his strange taste in foods - seriously, who even eats fish sticks dipped in chocolate?- wasn’t enough to irritate him to his very core, his apparent inability to restrain himself would have done it for sure. But Ethan was here, and he had insisted on Virgil coming, and he knew better at this point than to argue with him. 

He rested his elbow on the balcony bannister, his face on his hand, and stared off into the night, setting his cup on the bannister beside himself. It was much too crowded in the house. When had Remus even met so many people? How were there this many people who could stand to be around him? But, Virgil suspected, Ethan had probably told them all it was someone else’s party. Patton, perhaps. Everyone liked Patton.

“See how he leans his cheek upon his hand. Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek.” 

The words startled him from his thoughts and he looked down towards the ground below where they had come from. Roman, Remus’ twin brother, stood in the grass below, the smirk on his face visible even from this far away. Virgil fought the urge to roll his eyes at the Romeo and Juliet quote. He had read the play several times over - how could he not, with all the tragedy buried in it? - and he himself could probably quote the entire thing if he so chose.

“Back from your play already, Princey?” It had been the second night of his play at school. He played the Romeo, of course. Any other role wouldn’t have been enough for him. 

He shrugged, his smirk stretching into a grin. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight! For I ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably at his words, his face turning an interesting shade of scarlet. “Come on, Roman, do you have to yell cheesy lines up at me?”

“Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs.”

“What does that even mean?” 

Roman ducked his head, his shoulders shaking in a laugh, before he grabbed ahold of the iron trellis on the side of the house, climbing up it with an ease that Virgil would forever envy. As he climbed, his body moving in a way that allowed every muscle in his arms to be visible through the white button-down he wore from his costume, he said, “If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” 

And when he reached the top of the trellis, just below eye level with Virgil, he stopped. Virgil rose his eyebrows ever so slightly, a silent question in his eyes, and Roman released the trellis with one hand, resting his hand underneath Virgil’s jaw. He pulled him towards him gently, and pressed his lips to his. Virgil could feel his cheeks warming once again, though he sank into the kiss completely, feeling the softness of Roman’s lips moving slowly against his, the warmth of his fingers underneath his chin. Roman pulled away after only a second. Far too soon. And Virgil cleared his throat before he was able to speak. 

“You kiss by the book.”


	2. Beautiful: Prinxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon request: "What about Virgil wearing a dress for the first time and Roman helping him pick one?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crossdressing, established relationship

Virgil and Roman scoured the racks in the store for a dress. After Roman had begun wearing dresses a few months ago, Virgil had gotten curious about doing so, and asked for Roman’s help picking one out. He didn’t want to just throw on one of Roman’s. Mainly because it wouldn’t fit, with Roman being taller and more muscular than him, but also because he wanted to be comfortable in whatever dress he decided to wear, and there was no hope of him being comfortable in one of Roman’s flashy or extravagant dresses.   
And that was how they got to where they were now, flickering through the hanging dresses at the third store they had visited that night. It was a small thrift shop, but it was worth a check, and it was one of the last places open aside from the 24-hour store.   
Roman held up a tight red sequinned dress and eyed it, tilting his head to the side. Virgil saw him out of the corner of his eye and raised his eyebrows.   
“If you think you’re getting me in that, you’re kidding yourself, princey.”  
He couldn’t help the laugh that found its way out of his mouth. “As appealing as that sounds, seeing you in this… I was thinking for me. What do you think?” He turned it around so Virgil was looking at the front of it and he held it up to himself, striking a dramatic pose.   
Virgil contemplated for only a moment before smiling softly. “Beautiful.”  
He grinned, draping the dress over his arm and giving a bow - which made Virgil chuckle softly - before going back to looking through the dresses.   
“What kind of dress are you wanting, again?”  
“I don’t know. Something more… me, I guess.”  
“So ballgowns are out of the question?”  
He smiled again, though he rolled his eyes. “Yes, ballgowns are out of the question.”  
“What about something like this?” He raised an eyebrow as he held up another dress.   
This one was still more extravagant than Virgil would have preferred, but it was breathtakingly beautiful. Deep violet lace over a silk underskirt, a sheer collar that secured around the neck with black ribbon, a black faux-leather corset around the midsection.   
Virgil opened his mouth to speak and found his throat to be rather dry, cracking his voice on its way out. He settled with nodding, his cheeks flushing an interesting shade of red.   
With a slight chuckle, Roman stepped towards his boyfriend, handing him the dress and pressing a kiss to his forehead, smirking smally when he saw his blush spread down underneath the collar of his hoodie. “Do you want to try it on here, or wait until we get home, stormcloud?”  
“I think I want to try it on here.” He pressed a quick, innocent kiss to Roman’s lips before turning on his heel and heading to the fitting room.  
It fit perfectly.  
Roman had that talent. He was able to pick things out that were exactly the right size. In the years he had known him, he didn’t think Roman had had to try clothes on in a store more than a handful of times. He wasn’t entirely sure how it was possible, but that was just one of his many talents.   
Virgil stared at himself in the mirror in the dimly-lit fitting room, feeling uncomfortably exposed. He rubbed his bare arms and grabbed his hoodie, shrugging it back on over the dress, though he didn’t zip it up.   
That was better.   
Now he was able to appreciate the dress itself.   
It was absolutely stunning, and it didn’t look half-bad on himself. He loved the soft, flowy fabric. Not that he would ever admit it, but Virgil actually did a little spin, grinning as the skirt lifted up.   
He jumped in shock as he heard a knock at the door, and he hugged his hoodie closed around himself. He cracked open the door and was greeted with Roman’s smiling face.   
“Can I see?”  
Virgil looked around behind him to make sure nobody else was looking before opening the door more and holding open his hoodie to let Roman see the dress. He felt a small sense of pride when Roman’s eyes looked him over, his smile growing. When he met his eyes, the amount of love in his expression was enough to make Virgil’s heart melt.  
“Beautiful.”


	3. Fading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon on tumblr suggested: Virgil gets stuck in the subconscious and starts to fade. Deceit and Remus still like Virgil, as he was one of them, and try and warn the other sides. The other sides go check it out to get the other two to shut up. You can decide if they get there in time to save him or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: mentions of hallucinations, self-doubt

Virgil was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared for a day or so at a time before, but never for this long. After the first day, Patton started to worry. The second, Roman. Logan tried to reason with them, saying that he was most likely off somewhere sulking or in a depressive slump. But as time inched onward and they still hadn’t heard from him and Thomas’s wellbeing had begun to be seriously jeopardized, even Logan had to admit that it was a bit strange.  
The three of them did everything they could to protect Thomas, keeping a watchful eye on him to be sure he didn’t do anything too reckless.  
Remus overheard Patton and Roman’s hushed conversation at the end of day five.  
“What if he’s mad at us, Roman?”  
“I’m sure he’s not mad, Patton. We’ve been doing everything we can to make sure we’re not upsetting him.”  
“But he’s never been gone this long before.”  
Remus’s face fell, his shoulders slumping as confusion flickered across his face. Virgil was missing? He had to get back to Deceit and tell him. As hurt as the two of them had been when Virgil left, and as angry with him as they were… they still loved him. They didn’t want him to hurt, and they didn’t want him to go missing.  
“What do you mean, Virgil’s missing? Are you sure you didn’t misunderstand them?”  
“I’m sure, Dee. I’m really worried about him.”  
“What were you even doing down there to begin with, Remus? I’ve told you to keep bothering them.”  
“I know, I know. You can yell at me when Virgil is safe.”  
“Why do you care about him at all? He stayed with us. Remember?”  
“He’s still our friend, Dee. You can’t say that you don’t care about him, too. I’ve seen you trying to snort his old hoodie like a line of cocaine.”  
Deceit’s jaw worked for a moment as he chewed the inside of his lip. Eventually, rather than answering, he cleared his throat. “Did they say anything else about him?”  
“Just that he’s been gone for a while, and they’re worried about him. Do you think maybe he’s stuck? Like--”  
“Say his name and I won’t make you regret it,” he warned, tensing slightly.  
“Seriously, though, Dee. What if he’s stuck and he fades away forever?”  
“What do you expect me to do about it, Remus?”  
“Anything!”  
“Well I suppose the others would be incredibly unwilling to assist us,” he mused under his breath, chewing on his lip.   
He would be lying if he said he was worried - not that that sort of thing was so unusual for him: the lying. He had known Virgil for years, long before he abandoned them to become a “Light Side”, and he had never known him to go missing for long.  
Deceit stood outside the common space of the mind palace, lingering in the doorway. He knew he was unwanted. He could feel it in the dread that seeped out of Patton like poison every time he entered the room. This was important, though.   
Remus had no problem with entering the room. He barged past Deceit, bumping his shoulder with his, and stopped directly in front of the television, blocking it.   
“May I assist you with something, Remus?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards.   
“Virgil’s gone.”  
“We know, but we’re giving him his space.” Patton shifted on the couch, glancing towards the doorway. When he saw Deceit, he paused, tensing slightly, but he gave a small smile nonetheless.   
Spurred on by that small smile, that small beacon of hope, Deceit entered the room. “Virgil’s been gone this long before. He couldn’t possibly be in danger.”  
“Danger?” Roman sat up straighter, tensing at the words. “Danger from what?”  
“He’s just in his room or something,” Patton said.   
“And I’m sure if you go check his room, he’s just going to be in there, because we definitely haven’t checked there already.”  
“Where would he be, then, if not in his bedroom?” Logan tilted his head to the side slightly, a small movement.   
“He’s stuck,” Remus blurted. “There’s a space where we can go apart from our rooms. It’s the dark side of your common space here.”  
“And between here and our space, there’s nothing,” Deceit was hesitant now. Patton could feel the panic coming off of him, and he got up from the couch.   
“What is there?”  
“The subconscious. It’s where all the nasty things get stuck.” Remus’s voice cracked.   
“They always get stuck, Remus,” Deceit mumbled. “I don’t think Virgil is there. And if he’s there too long, he’ll continue to exist.”  
“I really wish you didn’t speak only in lies,” Roman groaned, rubbing his head. “It’s so confusing.”   
“You understand what I’m trying not to say, Roman,” he hissed. “We don’t need your help.”  
Virgil couldn’t believe his luck. That was what he got for trying to go back to the Dark Side of the common space. He wasn’t a Dark Side anymore. He hadn’t even had access to his old bedroom anymore. He’d had to redecorate the bedroom in the Light Side after the time when he’d hidden away from everyone and they had finally accepted him.   
He didn’t know why he had tried to get back to the Dark Side. Nostalgia, he supposed. He missed it. He missed the comfortable familiarity of it. But he didn’t belong. He’d gotten stuck halway through, and when he tried to go back - back to the Light Side - the veil hadn’t recognized him. He was stuck. Well and truly stuck. He didn’t belong. He wasn’t a Dark Side anymore, but he wasn’t truly a Light Side.   
The veil only allowed one through when they were one or the other. Dark or Light. It was a miracle, really, that Deceit was allowed through, considering that whereas he was a Dark Side, he had Light intentions.   
Virgil paced in the subconscious. All around him was emptiness, somehow both dark and light, and yet it was neither. It was nothing. He paced until he was weak. Whether he was weak from the pacing, or just weak in general, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his knees gave out, sending him sinking to the floor.   
If he could call it a floor.  
It was just more nothingness.  
He just felt so tired.   
So…  
Small.  
He felt his eyes slip shut, his body fading away.   
Two hands grabbed at his shoulders, pulling him to his feet. Two more at his hands. He opened his eyes, whimpering against the contact. Four people stood at his sides, and one more a little ways in front of him. He was hallucinating.  
Again.  
Great.  
He yanked his arms away from them, his upper lip curling in a sneer. “Leave me alone,” he mumbled.  
“Virgil, come on. Logan can’t hold the veil open forever,” Roman insisted, grabbing his arm again.   
“He better not,” Deceit snipped. “If that veil closes, we’ll be able to get out.”  
Virgil’s brows pulled together at the obvious lie. His hallucinations never did that. Never lied. He turned to look at Deceit, and then at Remus. They never showed up in his hallucinations. They were real.   
This was real.   
They managed to get him out of the veil and they collapsed on the floor of the Light Side’s common space. Virgil gasped for air as he stopped fading away, his body solidifying once more.   
Tears welled in his eyes as he looked behind him, to the veil that was rapidly closing as Logan stepped out of it.   
He could never go back.


	4. Inside Joke | Moxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to remember how that inside joke got started.

“Boi.” Virgil bemused. He was draped over Patton’s lap in the common space of the mind palace, looking at the television. Patton held the remote in one hand and had the other combing through Virgil’s hair, brushing it back from his face.  
“There’s no call for that kind of language,” Patton jokingly chastised, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  
Virgil rolled his eyes, looking up at him, and that was all it took for Patton to dissolve completely in giggles. Virgil snorted before joining in on the laughter.  
“Where did that even start?”  
“I don’t know,” Patton said shrilly around his giggles, shrugging dramatically in a very Roman-esque move.  
Virgil almost waited until Patton was done giggling. But he knew that that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Once he was gone, he was gone.  
“Wasn’t it during that courtroom thing with Dee?”  
He shook his head. “No, the joke for that was the eargasm.”  
“Right, right. Christmas, maybe?”  
Another shake of his head.  
“That’s gonna bother me if we can’t figure it out.”  
Patton was already grabbing the remote and switching the tv over to youtube. “Watch until we figure it out?” he asked, switching to Thomas’s channel and pulling up the Sanders Sides playlist.  
Virgil shrugged. “Just not season 1, because I know I was a “Light Side” when I said it.”  
And Patton pressed play.


	5. Stealing A Kiss | Prinxiety

Roman was absolutely beautiful when he was lost in thought. He stepped back from his painting every so often, looking at it to be sure everything was laid out correctly. He chewed his lip in thought in a way that had Virgil’s eyes lingering on it.  
He wondered what they felt like. He wondered if they were soft.  
Hey Princey, nice painting, he imagined himself saying. He imagined himself stepping into the room and flirting, all smooth and suave. He knew that wasn’t happening. If he even tried to flirt, he knew he would stumble over himself, stuttering and blushing.  
He instead stepped into the room, moving silently, and came up behind Roman. He hesitated for a moment, his hand in the air, before tapping him on the shoulder. Roman spun around, and before he had time to say anything, Virgil closed the distance between their lips. Roman froze in shock, making a small noise of surprise, before wrapping his arm around Virgil’s waist and pulling him closer.  
And when he pulled away, grinning down at him, there was most definitely a slight flush to his cheeks. “Took you long enough.”


	6. Kid Gloves | Prinxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty soulmate AU requested on Tumblr forever ago.

Just because two souls were bound didn’t mean that the relationship between those two people was supposed to be easy. Roman knew this - had been told this more times than he could count - and yet… and yet he still expected perfection.  
Roman expected sweeping romance and a classic fairy tale ending where both he and his soulmate, Virgil, lived happily ever after. And because of his expectations, it made it all so much harder - made it hurt so much worse - with every time the two of them argued.  
Their relationship had been rocky from the start. They were a pair at odds, meeting with literal swords at each other’s throats. A bandit, and a prince on his afternoon walk through the woods. When they had learned of their soul bond, however - each watching as one of the other’s eyes changed color to match their own - the two had decided that despite their stature, despite their instant dislike for each other, they would be together.  
They had to.  
Everyone knew that when soulmates were separated, it hurt. It felt as though your soul was being stretched thin, prepared to snap at the slightest provocation, as though every fiber or your being was both set ablaze and doused in ice water.  
The problem was, the two of them couldn’t stand to be around each other. They argued when they were alone, and they were at odds when they were with others. There were very few moments where they were able to catch some peace.  
It had been days of nonstop pain, Roman and Virgil going from yelling at each other until their hearts ached, to one of them leaving until the pain was too much to bear and they had to come back, only to start arguing all over again.  
Roman had reluctantly let his brother, Remus, take charge for the time being, as every part of him ached and trembled badly enough he could hardly get out of bed. He lay in the extravagant bed, curled up as tightly into a ball as he could get himself underneath the blankets, as if he could stop the aching of his soul.  
He was pulled from his half-asleep state by the sound of his chamber doors opening, and he uncurled himself, lest he show weakness in front of whoever was here. With some difficulty, he sat up and looked towards the door, only to see a very pale, very shaky Virgil, stumbling with eyes wide in fear.  
“You’re back,” he whispered out, his voice near hoarse from all the yelling he had done not twelve hours ago.  
“I…” Virgil’s voice cracked and tears welled in his eyes - already ringed with red and shadowed much more heavily than normal, telling Roman he had spent the night awake, crying, rather than sleeping.  
Expecting more arguing, Roman swallowed thickly, choosing his next words carefully, before finally breaking the tense silence between them. “Please….” he choked out, lowering his gaze in a rare show of vulnerability in front of another person. “Treat me with kid gloves, Virgil. My soul can’t take much more of this.”  
Though he didn’t see his soulmate - keeping his gaze on the blankets pooled around his waist instead - he heard shuffling across the room. And then the bed dipped beside him and there were arms around him, steady and warm, both warming and cooling every part of him as he physically felt his soul snap back into place.  
“I’m so sorry, Roman,” Virgil whispered, his voice thick with both tears and relief.  
Roman turned slightly, feeling his own eyes welling with tears, and slid his arms around Virgil’s waist, burying his face in the crook of his neck and just feeling the touch that his soul yearned so deeply for.  
“I’m sorry, too, Virgil,” he replied shakily, his words muffled by Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m done fighting. I… I’ll try to be nicer. No, I’ll… I’m going to be nicer to you.” That was one of their biggest fighting points. That Roman wasn’t nice enough to Virgil, often leaving him out of things, making him feel unwanted in the palace, not letting him around the others of high status.   
Virgil was quiet for a long moment, simply holding him, and then he nodded just enough that Roman could feel the shift of his head above his own. “Thank you, princey.”  
The two might have spent so long fighting and yelling and hurting, but in that moment, all of that dissolved away to make way for the calming sense of peace that settled over them. Maybe things could work out. Maybe they couldn’t. But they knew that they had to try.


	7. Please Don't Go | Anxceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty one-shot that takes place during and post-AA

Deceit was there when the door to Virgil’s room reappeared. He had been so incredibly worried when he’d seen the door disappear earlier that morning. That only happened when one of the Sides decided to check out, to disappear from Thomas’s mind. He hated knowing that Virgil was hurting. He felt a pang in his chest as he took a seat in the hallway, staring at the wall, and waited for it to return.   
The instant it did, he got to his feet, smoothed the front of his shirt and cloak so he didn’t seem too eager and disheveled, and knocked on the door. He had been to Virgil’s room so many times before, it seemed a little silly to knock, but he didn’t want to intrude on his privacy. The door swung open after a second, and Deceit was absolutely floored by the smile on Virgil’s face.   
He didn’t smile often.  
He ducked his head when he laughed, his hood pulled up over his head to hide the smile. He had slapped his hand over his mouth in the few times Deceit had seen his truly crack up over something Remus had done. It was only in the moments before he caught himself that Deceit was able to see his smile, to see his joy. But in that moment, when Virgil swung open his bedroom door, the grin on his face lit up everything around him brightly enough to be seen for miles.   
Deceit felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest. Virgil was okay. Virgil was happy.   
He grabbed ahold of Deceit’s arm and pulled him into the room before peeking out around him and closing the door once he was satisfied that there was nobody else out there. He spun around to look at Deceit, who was looking at the large box on Virgil’s bed, half-packed with clothes.  
“Are you… going somewhere?” he asked, his brows pulling together.   
“They finally accepted me, Dee. I’m a Light Side now!”  
Panic flooded his chest as his world crashed around him. “You can’t go.”  
Virgil didn’t hear him. Didn’t want to hear him. He was too excited. Granted, Deceit wasn’t so sure the words had actually made it past his lips.  
He brushed past him, heading to his closet, and grabbed out the last of his jeans, throwing them carelessly into the box.   
Virgil was leaving.   
Virgil was leaving them.   
Leaving him.   
He would never get the chance to tell him everything he wanted to say.   
He would never get to tell him that he loved him.   
That he wanted nothing more than to hold him close.   
To spend eternity with him.  
To be the one to dance with him in their socks at 3 am.   
To love him.  
“Pat and Logan are getting a room ready for me over there right now.” Virgil’s words tore Deceit from his thoughts, and he turned to him.   
“Why are you leaving?” He was sure this time that the words were actually formed, echoing in his ears.   
“What do you mean?” His smile faded and his brows pulled together, his shoulders slumping. Deceit felt his gut twist painfully at the sudden shift in his demeanor, knowing that he was the cause of it.   
‘If it’s something I did, I can fix it.’ He clamped his lips shut around the words before the could manifest.   
“Why wouldn’t I? Thomas finally finally sees me as something that’s not completely bad. I’m not hated anymore.”  
“I don’t hate you. Remus doesn’t hate you. Orin doesn’t hate you.”  
“You don’t get it, Dee.” He picked up a scrapbook Remus had made him last Christmas, thumbing through the pages colored with dried blood for a moment before settling it in the box.  
Deceit stared at the box, resisting the urge to lift it up and empty it out on the bed.   
To beg him to stay.   
To tell him everything.   
“I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore. Maybe someday you’ll get it.”   
“Stay, Virgil. Please.”  
“There’s nothing here for me, Deceit.”   
“I’m here.” The words were there before he could swallow them, desperate and sharp, tearing open his throat on their way out. “Do you think they’re going to care for you the way we do? The way I do? You’re kidding yourself, V.”   
He cursed himself inwardly when Virgil visibly tensed, his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching. “Why can’t you just be happy for me, Dee?”  
He opened his mouth to say something - anything - but the look on Virgil’s face stopped him. He would only make everything worse if he said anything.   
Virgil picked up the box, setting whatever had been in his hand down on the bed, and pushed past Deceit once more, leaving the room. When the door closed with finality, Deceit flinched, his eyes fixing on the item on the bed. He picked up the old black hoodie with the light grey criss-crossing lines with hesitant, trembling fingers, tears pricking at his eyes. He had given Virgil the hoodie several years ago. When they had first gotten close as friends.   
When he’d first realized just how much he loved him.  
He hugged the hoodie to his chest, sinking to the floor and burying his face in the fabric of it. It was still warm, having been taken off - he assumed - shortly before he’d entered the room. It smelled like him.   
He breathed in deeply, shutting his eyes as tightly as he could manage, and his body shook as the tears fell, soaking the hoodie.   
The door opened after an eternity of tears, and he didn’t bother looking up. He knew it wasn’t who he wanted to see. Virgil wasn’t coming back.   
He felt someone crouch down beside him and a hand rested on his back.   
“Are you okay?” Remus asked.   
He shook his head, hugging the hoodie closer against his chest. Remus took the hoodie from him with surprisingly gentle hands, and unbunched it, draping it over his shoulders before pulling it tight around him.   
“Please…” He hated the way his voice cracked, his voice hiccuping at the simple word. He sounded completely wrecked, hollow and dead. “Don’t leave.”  
Remus wiped away his tears with a small sigh. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	8. Rejoicing Tears | Roceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promoted angsty soulmate au

“I love you, Roman,” Damien snapped, tears welling in his eyes despite how hard he tried to hold them back. “I love you, and I don’t know why you can’t see that.”  
Roman stopped mid-sentence, having been in the middle of yet another argument with his boyfriend and soulmate. He all but froze, his mouth open, prepared to form words that now wouldn’t come. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head slightly, and suddenly realized that he couldn’t meet the other’s eyes. He couldn’t bear to see the pain there.  
“I know,” he responded softly, the words hardly more than a breath of sound, but he knew that Damien could hear him. “You think I don’t know that, D?”  
Another silence passed between them, and Damien sank down to sit at the foot of the bed they shared, his head in his hands. “I hate seeing you in pain, Ro. I can only lie to myself and convince myself that everything’s fine for so long. I know…” His breath shuddered around a nearly-silent sob as the tears finally rolled free from his eyes, lingering in his lashes before wetting his cheeks. “I know it’s not best for you to be here.”  
Roman sat down beside Damien, wanting to comfort his soulmate more than anything, wrapping his arms around him loosely. Damien turned and buried his face into Roman’s chest, his body trembling.  
“We can’t…” Damien began after a moment, regaining some sense of composure, though he didn’t look up to Roman. “We can’t win, can we?” he laughed shortly, a bitter bark. “Either I have you and my soul sings while yours cries… or we’re apart and yours rejoices… but mine dies.”  
Roman pushed past the aching pain that he felt in the center of his chest as he held Damien, the feeling of his soul trying to pull him away from the other, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He lingered in the blond curls for a moment before sighing softly and simply resting his head on top of the other’s. “We’ll figure it out, D. We will.”  
“I love you,” Damien whispered, repeating himself.   
“I know.”


	9. The Witching Hour | Prinxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was I projecting when I wrote this? Yeah. A bit. [shrug] I'm sorry, but Virgil is my emotional support hurt/comfort character

Roman wasn’t sure where he had gone wrong. What he had done wrong. Just yesterday, Virgil had seemed so happy. He had held his hand, twining their fingers together in a movement that by then seemed easier than breathing. He had kissed his lips, that smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when Roman’s cheeks flushed pink.  
And today…  
Today, everything was different.  
Today, Virgil couldn’t - wouldn’t - even look at him.  
He had glanced up for the briefest of seconds when Roman came down for breakfast that morning, and within an instant, Virgil sank out, his face composed in a way that told Roman he was a second from falling apart. He avoided him at every moment, leaving the room the moment Roman entered it, and by the end of the day, Roman’s heart ached in his chest. He needed to know what was wrong. He needed to know what he’d done.  
It was three in the morning before he finally got a moment with Virgil in which he wasn’t sinking out. He was on his way to the kitchen for a late-night snack and he saw Virgil sitting on the counter, staring down into the steaming mug cradled in his hands.  
Roman tensed slightly, pausing in the doorway, before entering the kitchen as quietly as he could. He didn’t want to scare him off. He treated him like a frightened animal who would bolt given the slightest provocation.  
Virgil looked up when Roman’s feet shuffled against the floor, his eyes wide in panic, and – oh. Roman’s heart sank into his stomach when he saw the tear streaks running through the anxious side’s eyeshadow, streaking it down his cheeks.  
“Virgil… are you okay?” Oh, of course he wasn’t okay. But Roman had to start somewhere, and here was better than nowhere.  
Virgil sniffled, a horribly wet sound as he lifted one hand from his mug to swipe at his cheeks, wiping away the tears. He clenched his jaw and glanced away from him, doing everything in his power to maintain some semblance of composure, but there was no missing the trembling in his jaw as he fought back tears. He refused to meet Roman’s eyes, looking instead pointedly away from him. “I’m fine, princey. Go back to bed.” God, even his voice was trembling.  
Roman took another step towards him and when Virgil saw the movement, he looked again to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Please, V. Talk to me.”  
“What is there to talk about?” It was clear that he was forcing the venom in his words when his voice cracked over the last word.  
“You’ve been avoiding me all day… and you’re crying on the kitchen counter in the middle of the night.”  
“I do this every night,” he mumbled with a roll of his eyes.  
Roman made a Concerned Princey Noise and took another step towards him. “Please.” He didn’t know what else he could say.   
“Why do you care?” Virgil nearly snapped. “I’m not… I’m not like you guys. I’ll never be like you guys. I don’t know why I ever thought I could be.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“I was a dark side, Roman.” The tears welled up in his eyes again as his voice hinted at desperation. “I was a dark side, and I betrayed them. And now I’m not going to be wanted here anymore. I don’t belong anywhere anymore. I’m a traitor, and a fake. I don’t deserve the love you all give me. I don’t…” He let out an involuntary whimper, gripping his mug hard enough that his knuckles were white and Roman was certain it was going to shatter at any given second. “I don’t deserve anything.”  
It took Roman a second to come to his senses, to snap out of the heartbreaking mental haze Virgil’s whimper and tears had sent him hurtling into, but when he did, he closed the rest of the distance between them. He took the mug from his hands carefully and wrapped his arms around him, enveloping him in his warmth. Virgil broke at the contact, absolutely shattered. His breath came in sobbing gasps as his body trembled in Roman’s arms. Roman rested his hand on the back of Virgil’s head, slotting his fingers in with the soft hair, as he hid his face against the crook of Roman’s neck. The neckline of his shirt was soaked in an instant, but he honestly couldn’t care less about that.  
“Virgil, none of us care that you were a dark side.” He fought to keep the tremor from his own voice, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. “We all love you so much. I love you so much. You are always wanted here, and if anyone debates that, they can answer to me.”  
Virgil gave a wet chuckle at that before lifting his head up from Roman’s shoulder and sniffling. Roman cradled his face in his hands, running his thumbs over his cheeks to wipe away his tears, and he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And you deserve everything.”


	10. My Hero | Prinxiety

~Post DWIT~  
After Virgil sank out, tears pricking his eyes, he curled up in his room. He knew he should start packing - there was no way the Light Sides would let him stay here now that they knew the truth. The look of shock on Thomas’s face had been enough to tell him that. But he didn’t have the energy to get up to do that.  
He curled in on himself in the center of his bed, the black bubbling tar of Thomas’s anxiety spilling over in his stomach, the burning of it enough to blur his vision and make him feel lightheaded. He gasped for air, and he was so absorbed in the trembling pain inside him that he didn’t hear the knock at his door or the sound of the door opening.  
In no time at all, there was a hand on his back, making him tense, and he unfurled himself, looking up at the man attacked to the hand. Roman looked down at him with concern in his eyes. Seeing the tears streaking down Virgil’s cheeks, he pulled him to his chest in a hug.  
Virgil sank into Roman’s chest, shutting his eyes tight, and he simply relished in the strong warmth of him. He felt horrible, knowing that he was betraying Roman even with this simple hug.  
He allowed himself a moment of peace before pulling out of his boyfriend’s arms.  
“You know I used to be a Dark Side, right?” he asked, not quite meeting Roman’s eyes.  
“I know.” His voice was somehow both soft and strong, the steady sureness of it nearly bringing Virgil to tears all over again. “Is that what’s got you so upset?”  
“The others know, too. Or they will once Thomas tells them. They’re not going to want me around anymore.”  
“Virgil, they know I’m only half a Side, and that’s something that I still am. They’re not going to send you away over something you used to be.”  
“What if they do, though?”  
“Don’t worry. I’ll be here to protect you.”  
Virgil snorted despite the pleasant warmth spreading through his chest at his words. When he spoke, his words were laced with a sarcasm that he didn’t entirely mean.  
“My hero.”


	11. Nightmare Before Christmas | Analogical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I know it's not Christmas. To be honest, I completely forgot I had a one-shot fic compilation (?) on here, so I haven't been updating it. Oh well.

After Roman and Patton’s Twelve Days of Christmas bit, Virgil retired to his room with a sigh. What was up with his line? Yeah, the replacement line that Roman had written had been cute, and he had loved it - and he had admittedly had fun hanging out with everyone - but why had Roman thought the original line would be something he would have wanted to sing?  
With another sigh, he shook his head and plopped down onto his bed.  
A knock at his door came a little while later, and he flicked one hand to let the door swing open. He turned his head, not wanting to get up just yet, and saw Logan standing in the doorway, refusing to enter the room.  
Which was understandable, considering the effect his room had on the other sides.  
“What can I do for you, pocket protector?” he hummed, sitting up.  
“I…” Logan swallowed thickly, adjusting his glasses. “I understand that you did not like Patton and Roman’s celebration for your first Christmas with us, but I have yet to give you my present for you.”  
A single eyebrow shot up on the anxious side’s forehead and he got to his feet. “You didn’t have to get me anything, Lo.”  
“Yet I did anyways.” A rare smile graced his face and he held out a hand for Virgil to take. The two of them had been growing closer and closer since the debate, never having the discussion about their relationship, but it was clear to anyone who was around them for more than a few minutes that they were in love.  
With a small smile, Virgil slipped his hand into Logan’s, fingers threading together, before the two of them headed towards the living room of the mindscape. Virgil gasped in shock as he looked around the room. Every inch of it had been decorated for the holiday. But not in the way one usually decorated for it.  
A Christmas tree sat in the corner, yes, but the decorations were fake spiderwebs and plastic spiders. Fake shrunken heads hung from the walls like garland. The television screen was resting at the play menu to Nightmare Before Christmas, Virgil’s favorite movie. The lights had been replaced with blacklights that illuminated the bleached skulls that Logan had placed on the end tables.  
It was, in short, perfect.  
“You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” Virgil said, hardly able to mask his excitement as he pulled Logan to sit down on the couch.  
“I am well aware of that,” Logan replied, reaching up and tucking the anxious side’s bangs behind his ear. “However, to see that smile of yours, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do.”


	12. Stargazing | pt 1 | Analogical

It had been Logan’s idea. Virgil had had a long day, and he was getting temperamental, snapping at everyone and slamming doors, and Logan had, quite frankly, had enough.  
“Come with me.” He didn’t leave any room for Virgil to disagree or argue with him, but he was still surprised when Virgil followed.  
He led him up to the roof and sat down, crossing his legs beneath him. Virgil only paused a moment before taking a seat beside Logan. “Why did you bring me up here?”  
Logan didn’t answer, instead he tilted his chin upwards pointedly towards the sky. Virgil curled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on his knees as he wrapped his arms around his legs, and he looked up to the sky. He looked up to the stars.  
He found himself getting lost in them, simply watching, his eyes flitting from one constellation to the next and tracing the path of a shooting star. As time ebbed on, Virgil felt his anxieties calming, the bubbling tar in his stomach cooling.  
“I’ve found that star-gazing has calming effects in moments of anxiety,” Logan stated calmly as he noticed Virgil relaxing. Virgil glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, ready to say something about how Logan really did feel things, but he thought better of it.  
“Star-gazing was a good idea, L. Thanks.”  
He smiled slightly, nodding once. “You’re welcome up here any time, Virgil.”


	13. Safety In Logic | pt. 2 | Analogical

Virgil sat on the roof with Logan, peering up at the sky. It had been weeks since he’d first brought the anxious side up to look at the stars, and the two of them spent nearly every night up there. Not that Logan minded. He was up there most of the time anyways. When he got overwhelmed with the workload of scheduling and editing scripts, he found it calming to look up at the stars, to trace over the constellations with wandering eyes.  
It was a cloudy night tonight, so whereas the fresh air was nice and did serve to help calm down Virgil - as he’d recently had a panic attack after the seemingly trivial act of dropping and shattering a plate - there were no stars in sight. Nonetheless, Virgil watched the clouds as they shifted and moved across the sky in the breeze.  
They sat silently more often than not. Sometimes, Virgil would ask Logan to identify one constellation or another, or ask him to explain things about space. They never talked about the things that bothered Virgil. And Virgil never asked what bothered Logan. It was better that way, they agreed. This place could be theirs to simply relax without letting those worries worm their way in.   
So to say it was a surprise when Virgil spoke up today was an understatement.  
“I know I’ve said it before, but thank you for bringing me up here, Lo. I don’t… I don’t think I would let the others see me like this. All vulnerable and stuff.” He always felt strangely exposed up here, like he was baring his soul in front of the logical side. But he didn’t mind as much as he would with any of the others.  
Patton, he thought, would coo over him and treat him like a child. Roman would make a big spectacle about it. Deceit and him weren’t as close as they used to be. And Remus wouldn’t understand.  
Logan, however.  
Logan was safe. Calming. Logical.  
“I understand.” Logan smiled softly, looking at Virgil out of the corner of his eye. Virgil hadn’t taken his eyes off the sky. But he never did when he was up here. Not until he was completely calmed down. “I don’t believe I would tell any of the others that I have need for such a place as this.”  
Virgil leaned against Logan’s shoulder, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips for the first time in what felt like forever. “You make me feel safe,” he admitted quietly.  
And to say that statement didn’t make Logan feel like the most important side of them all… well, that would simply be false.


	14. Sing For Me | Analogical

Logan and Virgil were seated on the couch in the mind palace - Patton and Roman were off in Roman’s room - and Virgil was playing music from his phone. This wasn’t such a strange occurrence, as he frequently had music playing in his headphones, even when he didn’t have them over his ears, but today, he didn’t even have the headphones. He simply had music pouring from his phone.  
He mouthed the words to the song, occasionally letting an actual vocal word slip from his mouth, and tapped his foot to the beat as he leaned against Logan’s side. Logan had one arm draped over Virgil’s shoulders, the other hand balancing a book on his lap.  
After a while of simply sitting there, Logan looked up from his book and pressed a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head. Virgil’s face burned pretty instantly red at the simple affection and he ducked his head, pausing his music. A part of him had nearly forgotten that he was with Logan, being so used to his constant comfortable warmth at his side.  
“Sorry, am I distracting you?” he mumbled, to which Logan shook his head.  
“Not at all. But I do have one request…”  
Virgil looked up at him, hesitant and confused.  
“I want to hear you sing.”  
His eyes widened, his face paling even more than it already was, and he nodded. The tiny flare of panic in him dulled down after only a moment and he cleared his throat.  
“Only if you sing with me.”


	15. Sleepy Boy | Prinxiety

After a long day at work, Virgil came home to find his boyfriend, Roman, already in bed. It wasn’t strange to find him already in bed when he got home, as he worked late into the night most of the time, but it was the first time in a while that Roman was still awake, waiting for him.  
It was clear that he had struggled to stay awake, however, his eyes half-shut and his words coming out as deep rumbles that made Virgil’s heart skip a beat as he mumbled, “Come to bed. ‘m tired.” He outstretched his arms, awaiting Virgil to come lay in them.  
With a chuckle, Virgil kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers before crawling into bed with Roman. He laid himself in Roman’s arms, his head resting against his chest, and Roman hummed contentedly, embracing him in a warm hug.  
Virgil tugged the blankets over top of them and nuzzled into Roman’s chest.  
“You’re adorable when you’re half-asleep.”  
Roman smiled sleepily and pressed a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head, glad that he had stayed up to see him after work.


	16. Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace | Anxsleep

“Shit, I’m too late,” Virgil mumbled under his breath as he heard the music from inside the church start playing. Remy was such a sap, going with the traditional wedding march for his special day. It was one of the things Virgil loved about him.   
How sappy he was.   
How sweet.   
Most people didn’t know that about him - thought that he was no more than the bitchy persona that he put forward to protect himself from being hurt. Most people didn’t know that he was the most kind, caring person that Virgil had ever met.   
Not that it would matter much anymore.   
He was getting married.   
Virgil was too late.   
He was going to get married and move off to god-knows-where, and he would never see him again.   
He would never get to see his bright smile, or hear his laugh - bubbling out past his lips when he heard something he thought was cute or funny - or watch the way his eyes lit up when he looked at Virgil. He would never get to kiss his lips again. Never get to feel the warmth of his arms encircling his waist, pulling him close.   
He had to do something. He had to stop this.   
Remy had to know that he loved him… there was no way he could get married if he just knew.   
Tears that Virgil hadn’t even felt pricking at his eyes rolled freely down his cheeks as he raced towards the church. He burst through the doors as soon as he reached them, inwardly cringing as they slammed open, the noise directing all eyes to him. Great, not only was he trying to break up this wedding, but he made a dramatic entrance as he did so.   
“Stop,” he pleaded, the word coming out in a breath of a whisper. And yet somehow the sound managed to reach them, all the way across the large room filled with murmured whispers at the absolute scandal.   
Remy’s eyes lit up, and Virgil felt as though his heart was soaring. But he didn’t move away from his groom, frozen in place, so Virgil stepped forward for him. He stopped when he was a few feet behind them, by some miracle, able to ignore the crowd of people staring at him.   
“Remy, please. You can’t do this.”  
“Virgil…” He started to shake his head, his eyes soft as they peered into his.   
“Please,” the emo begged. “Please, Rem. Don’t do this. I love you.”  
All was silent - even the hushed whispers ceased to be - as Remy mulled over Virgil’s words. Eventually, he turned to his groom once more, and Virgil was crushed.   
He was going to stay with him.   
He was going to marry him.   
He didn’t love Virgil.   
Didn’t want him.   
“He’s right,” Remy murmured, taking his groom’s hand and giving it a small squeeze, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.”   
Had Virgil heard that right?  
He was speechless as Remy let go of his groom’s hand and stepped down from the stage. Remy approached Virgil and took both of his hands in his, giving a soft smile that was reserved for him only.   
“I was wondering when you were going to show up.”


	17. Drunken Confessions | Prinxiety

Virgil Tempest was not one to get drunk. When he drank, he got fussy and he got emotional. One time in particular that he remembered fondly [read: embarrassedly] was when he turned 21 and admitted to the bartender - tears streaming down his face and blubbering like a baby - that he thought he was hot. So, no, Virgil didn’t drink.  
Why he agreed to tap into the bottle of vodka with his roommate, Roman, he didn’t know. He knew he was going to regret it the moment that the first shot burned its way down his throat, but hey. Fuck it.  
Two hours and most of the bottle of vodka later, Roman was getting handsy and giggly. He laid across Virgil’s lap, laughing and snorting at the way Virgil’s face looked when Roman squished it between his hands.  
After a moment, Virgil let out a whine and pushed Roman off of his lap, dumping him unceremoniously onto the floor. Roman flipped Virgil off before getting up off the floor. He climbed up onto the couch, worming his way in the small space between Virgil and the back of the couch, one leg on either side of Virgil.  
Virgil’s face burned red and he whined again, his face scrunching up as he moved to get up from the couch. Too close. They were too close. He was already restraining himself as much as he could from disclosing his feelings for Roman, and he had to go and do that shit?  
“Stop fussing,” Roman insisted as he wrapped his legs around Virgil’s waist. “I’m just braiding your hair.”  
Nope. Nope. This wasn’t happening. This was not happening.  
But it was.  
Roman slid his fingers into Virgil’s hair, combing the purple bangs back from his face, and in no time at all, Virgil found himself relaxing at the touch. The fingers slid through his hair, twining the silky strands together in what he could already feel were stumbling, tangled attempts at braids.  
When the braid was finished, Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil’s shoulders, laying against his back, and Virgil tensed. His eyes widened and he froze, his heart racing in his chest. He allowed himself to sink into the warmth that surrounded him.  
“Roman?”  
“Hmm?”  
“I think I love you.”  
What? No. Why did he say that? Why would he say that? Yeah it was how he felt, but that didn’t mean that it needed to be said. His cheeks burned darker red than before and as the second of silence that followed his confession seemed to stretch for eternity, he became painfully aware of Roman’s heartbeat against his back and Roman’s legs around his waist and Roman’s arms around his shoulders and Roman’s head on his shoulder.  
And Roman’s kiss on his cheek. “Think I love you, too, hot topic.”


	18. Blanket Hog | Prinxiety

Virgil was frozen. He was always cold anyways, but tonight, it was bad enough that he woke up in the middle of the night. Of course, it would help if Roman wasn’t such a fucking blanket hog.  
He could very easily nuzzle into Roman’s side, to try to slip under the blanket that he had stolen completely from him or to capture some of the warmth that poured from him in waves. But being only half awake, he decided that it would be a better idea to simply yank on the blanket.  
He pulled too hard and stole the blanket entirely from Roman. Smiling in triumph, he nestled into the warmth of the comforter, breathing in the scent of his boyfriend, and he felt his eyes start to slip shut after only a minute.  
Roman woke up, whining sleepily, and grabbed for the blanket again, tugging on it.  
“If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you, princey,” Virgil warned, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.  
“You stole them from me,” Roman whined, tugging more insistently at them.  
Virgil rolled his eyes, chuckling, and lifted the blanket wordlessly. Making a noise of happy surprise, Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, laying his head on his chest, and Virgil lowered the blanket over him.  
Finally warm, it was only minutes before Virgil was able to sleep.


	19. Dancing Heart | pt 1 | Prinxiety

Virgil liked to dance. He wasn’t overly picky about the style of dance really, doing everything from the waltz to the chicken dance and everything in between. He found it calming, to close his eyes and allow himself to sink so completely into the music that poured around him.   
He didn’t have to think.   
He didn’t have to feel.   
His only problem was that he didn’t have the guts to dance around anyone else. He hid away in his room, the center of the room cleared, and he poured himself into the movements of his body.   
After an especially stressful day, Virgil stormed into his room, pushed aside the clutter in the center of the room, and flipped through his phone for the right song.   
Heartless by The Fray.  
Perfect.  
He connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker on his desk and started up the song before setting his phone on his bed.   
He moved slowly at first, his eyes shut. As the song picked up, he spun around the room, standing up on the tips of his toes and his other leg bent at the knee, his arms half straight out to the side. When he finished a set of twirls, he bent backwards, his spine arching to the point that it would have been nearly painful if not for the amount of practice that he had.   
Roman was walking down the hall when he heard the music. It wasn’t anything like what anyone listened to. Virgil listened to the louder, more punk-rock music, Patton to soft indie pop, Logan to classical piano accompaniments on the few occasions he actually listened to music. He wasn’t sure what kinds of music Deceit and Remus listened to, but he was nearly sure it wasn’t this. Besides, why would they be down this end of the hallway?   
Curiosity piquing inside him, he headed down towards wherever the music was coming from. Virgil’s bedroom door was open, the song pouring from the room in a loud, steady beat. Roman’s brows pulled together and he silently crept up to the doorway, peering inside. And what he saw made his jaw drop.   
Virgil was dancing, his eyes shut, his hoodie twirling around him with every spin he effortlessly performed. His body turned and bent and twisted and twirled perfectly in time with the song. He never faltered, his face calm and every movement precise and sure.   
He was… really good.   
Roman was stunned at how good he was.  
He was perhaps even more stunned that he was good at ballet, of all things. He hadn’t pictured Virgil as the ballet type.   
Roman was the ballet type.   
He had practiced and learned ballet long ago, and as he watched Virgil in silence for a long minute, he found himself itching to join in.   
As Virgil stopped spinning, stretching his leg up above his head while arching back in a way that looked like if he had an ounce less control over every move he made, he would tumble to the floor, the song sped up. Virgil did one more set of twirls, his leg bending at the knee and his arms settled around his waist. As he stopped spinning, he leapt across the room, one leg extended in front of him and the other behind in a perfect jeté.   
Roman stepped into the room, catching him by the waist before he had a chance to hit the ground.   
Virgil’s eyes snapped open, his body tensing, and panic flitted across his face.   
He pulled away from Roman’s grip, grabbing his phone and rushing out of the room, leaving a very confused Roman behind. He didn’t know where he was going, or what he was doing, but he turned on his phone with hurried, trembling fingers and turned off the music.   
Someone had seen him.   
Roman had seen him.  
Oh god… someone saw…


	20. Dancing Heart | pt. 2 | Analogical

The good thing about the mindscape was that it was all made up. You could imagine anything you wanted, and it would become reality. You could imagine piles of gold or beautiful men or you could imagine friends. And with a simple wave of a hand or a snap of fingers, whatever material thing you could ever want would come into being.   
It had been a week since the incident where Roman had caught Virgil dancing, and Virgil was finally ready to try again. His anxiety was bubbling over like tar in the pit of his stomach without the outlet - he had tried countless other coping methods, and none of them worked as well as dancing did.   
He was confident that he had time to himself - though that word seemed strange as it drifted through his mind… confident… as if Virgil had ever been confident about anything in his life. The others were helping Thomas with something for the upcoming video, and Deceit and Remus were off pestering Orin. He had privacy.   
After double and triple checking that everyone else was preoccupied, Virgil shut his bedroom door and pulled out his phone, connecting it to his bluetooth speaker and pulled up the song he had been craving dancing to for days.   
Strange and Beautiful by Aqualung.   
He needed a partner for the dance he had in mind for this one, though.   
Concentrating hard, Virgil screwed his eyes shut and when he opened them, there was a partner in front of him. He was a faceless figure, but he didn’t need to have a face. He was an imaginary partner to lead him through the steps of the dance he had done countless times before.   
He took one of the partner’s hands in his and wrapped the other arm around his neck, holding him close, feeling the imaginary hand grasp his waist. The song was slower than the ones typically tangoed to, but he had a mental image of how it would look and feel, and he hadn’t been able to drop it for days.   
The partner led him through the steps, the arm around his waist strong and sturdy, though it lacked the warmth of a human touch. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but Virgil did find himself wishing he had the nerve to ask someone to dance with him.   
No.  
He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thought as he was spun through the steps. The music swelled around him, the soft piano accompaniment bringing a soft smile to his face. He felt at ease for the first time in a week, his eyes slipping shut as he allowed himself to sink fully into the music and the feel of the dance.   
***  
Logan had dismissed himself first, having been ignored and talked over enough that he had gotten fed up with it. When he popped up in his room, however, he heard the unmistakable swell of music somewhere near. Curiosity pricking in the back of his mind, he stepped out of his room, seeking out the source of it.   
It was coming from Virgil’s room.  
That was odd.  
The soft, sweet piano melody sounded nothing like the type of music he had grown so fondly accustomed to hearing from Virgil’s room. Nonetheless, Logan followed the sound of the music and slowly cracked open Virgil’s door.   
He poked his head in and paused in shock, his brows rising on his forehead at what he saw.   
Virgil was dancing around the room with a faceless figure - who stood at Logan’s height, strangely enough - being led through spins and clutching his partner like a lifeline. The two were perfectly coordinated as Virgil stepped backwards before spinning out away from the partner. When the two rejoined, their arms and hands rested exactly as before, never a hesitation between them.   
It made sense, Logan reasoned, that there would be no flaws, as the partner was just a creation of Virgil’s imagination.   
That wouldn’t do.   
How was Virgil to learn how to overcome any mistakes he made if he didn’t have someone else to practice with?  
Though he knew that it was likely a very bad idea, Logan stepped into the room. When Virgil twirled away from his partner again, Logan approached the partner. He waved his hand simply, making him disappear in a puff of smoke, and took his place without a beat of hesitation.   
Virgil, with his eyes shut, didn’t notice at first.   
He rejoined what he thought was his imaginary partner, his arm wrapping around Logan’s neck and his hand grasping his. Logan gripped Virgil’s waist, holding him close, and led him through the motions. He wasn’t as practiced as the imaginary partner had been, however, and after only a few seconds, he stepped out of line.   
Literally.   
As he went to lead Virgil through a part of the dance where Virgil had to walk backwards, Logan put his foot slightly out of place and Virgil stumbled. His eyes flew open and panic filled his face, his cheeks flushing.   
Virgil had known something was wrong. After that last spin, his partner had been warm, had held him differently, had smelled like old books and Crofter’s jelly rather than nothing at all. But he had assumed - foolishly, really - that he had simply gotten better at imagining Logan dancing with him. When he opened his eyes and actually saw Logan, however, he was sure his heart would stop.   
No, no, no.   
He had taken so many precautions.   
He tore himself from Logan’s arms, his face red as a flame, and grabbed his phone, swiftly turning off the music.   
“Virgil, I--”  
He didn’t stay to listen. He rushed out of the room, again unsure where he was going. He just knew that he had to get out. He had to clear his head. And he had to install some locks on his door if he was ever going to dance again.


	21. Dancing Heart | pt. 3 | Moxiety

Patton was the easiest of everyone to approach. He was always kind and gentle, and he had been the first of the Light Sides to accept Virgil. He didn’t judge. There was absolutely no way he was going to ridicule Virgil if he misstepped or stumbled over his own feet. He had nothing to be afraid of. And he very much wanted to be able to dance with someone, to be able to feel someone’s warmth pulling him along a dance floor.  
So why was he standing outside of Patton’s bedroom, twisting the fabric of his sleeve in his hand, chewing the inside of his lip hard enough that he tasted blood in his mouth? His phone felt heavy in his pocket, reminding him that he was going to need it soon for the music. All he had to do was lift his hand… and knock.   
It was an impossible feat.   
He raised his hand countless times, poised to knock, and froze. He let his hand fall back to his side, the bubbly tar-like anxiety in his stomach spilling over for the briefest of moments.   
He lifted his hand one more time, and the door opened.   
***  
~One Day Previously~  
“Patton, would you be able to do me a favor?” Logan asked as he approached Patton’s doorway. Patton looked up from the knitting project on his lap.   
“What can I help you with, kiddo?”  
“Last week, I happened to walk in on Virgil in his bedroom, and he was… well, he was dancing. The tango, to be precise. And I have spoken with Roman on the subject, and he informed me that he walked in on Virgil doing ballet two weeks ago. I have a theory that he dances as a way to calm his feelings of anxiety, but I hypothesize he will have an easier time calming those feelings if he had a partner. Would you be able to attempt to get him to dance with you? He seems more comfortable around you than he does with the rest of us.”  
“Of course! I’m not much of a dancer myself, but I can certainly try!”  
***  
Virgil froze when Patton opened the door, his fist still posed to knock, and his face burned red. “I…” What? You what, Virgil? He cursed himself inwardly, lowering his hand.   
Patton lit up upon seeing him. “Virgil! Just the Side I was looking for. Come in, come in.” He held open the door and when Virgil didn’t move, he smiled softly. “Or I can come out.” He stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him, and Virgil rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing away from Patton. “Did you need something, kiddo?”  
He shook his head, deciding in that moment against asking Patton to dance with him. Chicken. The gravelly voices of his own anxiety whispered in his mind, making him flinch. It had been so long since he had heard them. The dancing usually calmed him down enough that he didn’t have to worry about their coming back. But with being caught twice now dancing, he hadn’t so much as turned on music in a week.   
“Well, I was about to come ask you if you wouldn’t mind helping me with something. I’ve been in the mood to dance lately, and I was hoping you would be my partner.”  
Virgil’s jaw dropped for a second before he pulled himself together. Patton was asking him to dance?   
“Why not Roman? He’s probably a better dancer than me.”  
“But I want to dance with you.” He grinned and held out a hand. Virgil stared at his hand like it was a deadly snake that was going to bite him. “Roman said I could use his ballroom so I have more room. What do you say, Virgil? Dance with me?”  
He took his hand.   
***  
“What kind of dancing did you have in mind, Pat?” Virgil asked as he stood in Roman’s ballroom. It was beautiful as always, the crystal chandelier reflecting on the polished floors.   
“You know, I’m not exactly sure. I’m just in the mood to dance. Why don’t you pick the song, and the dance, and I can join in?”   
Are you really going to fall for this?   
“Okay.” Virgil pulled his phone out of his pocket, already going to the song he had had in mind.   
On Top Of The World by Imagine Dragons. It was a cheery enough song for Patton to dance to.   
Apparently you are.  
Upon hearing the joyful beat of the song, Patton grinned again, biting his tongue as he did so.   
“Do you know how to swing dance?”  
By way of answer, Patton rushed forward, taking his hand in his and leading him through the steps. Virgil nearly cried. The two of them skipped around the ballroom, twirling and dipping and bouncing to the beat of the song until they dissolved in giggles.   
It was so different dancing with a real person when he wasn’t worried about panicking. When he wasn’t worried about slipping up.  
The gravelly voice in his head faded away to nothing and the bubbly tar in his stomach cooled. A true smile graced his face for the first time in what felt like forever.   
He was at peace.   
He was calm.  
He was happy.


End file.
